Mother Dearest

A private little mother and daughter moment

Lydia sifted the documents cluttering her father's desk.

"Daddy, this is important! Why were you so—ugh!" she snorted in frustration. Papers were stuck in folders and old envelopes seemingly at random, jammed—

"Lydia." Her mother, the formidable Olivia Stoneway—Old Stoneface, Lydia though with a smile, whose gnashing hatreds had destroyed the family. "Does your smile mean you've found what you are looking for?" the stern woman asked coldly

"Not yet, Mother," she sighed. "Daddy was so disorganized. He—"

Her mother raised her voice: "You will not speak ill of my husband!" To Olivia, Lydia's father was a possession.

Lydia spit back, "Your husband? My father!"

A wry smile played on the woman's lips. "Perhaps. But he was mine before you were born and long after you left, girl. Now I want you to leave again."

"Mother, this is important. I'll leave when I find—

"You'll never find what you need!" her mother snapped. "You want to find something to prove he loved you more than me. There is no such instrument, girl!" Her grin turned vicious. "No will, no inheritance, no letter of kindness or fondness!"

Lydia stared, dumbfounded.

"In the end, he was mine! Now he always will be, and everything he ever owned or held dear. Except for you." She paused, her color high. "Now, you listen. Because this is important," she mocked. "You will leave my house at once and forever. Your father is dead to you; and you are dead to me. Now—out!"

Lydia left, a nagging suspicion beginning in her mind. Her father, victim of an unexpected heart attack. "...no inheritance!" Out of the blue. "...he was mine!" Surely Mother hadn't... no...

Lydia started her car and sped to the police station. Breathlessly, she told the desk sergeant: "This is important...!"

(Word Count: 299)